Cugel

by Jack Vance

  In the morning Lankwiler’s disappearance dominated all conversations. Chief Worminger Drofo, Captain Baunt and Soldinck met in the grand saloon to discuss the affair, and presently Cugel was called before the group.

  Soldinck, sitting on a tall-backed chair of carved skeel, cleared his throat. “Cugel, as you know, Lankwiler has gone off with a valuable worm. Can you shed any light on the affair?”

  “Like everyone else, I can only theorize.”

  “We would be pleased to hear your ideas,” said Soldinck.

  Cugel spoke in a judicious voice: “I believe that Lankwiler despaired of becoming a competent worminger. His worms went sick, and Lankwiler could not face up to the challenge. I tried to help him; I let him take one of my sound worms so that I might bring his sickly creature back to health, as Drofo must surely have noticed, although he was unusually reticent in this regard.”

  Soldinck turned to Drofo. “Is this true? If so, it reflects great credit upon Cugel.”

  Drofo spoke in a subdued voice: “Yesterday morning I counseled Cugel in this regard.”

  Soldinck turned back to Cugel. “Continue, if you will.”

  “I can only surmise that dejection urged Lankwiler to perform a final despairing act.”

  Captain Baunt cried out: “That is unreasonable! If he felt dejection, why not simply jump into the sea? Why suborn our valuable worm to his personal and private uses?”

  Cugel reflected a moment. “I suppose that he wanted to make a ceremony of the occasion.”

  Soldinck blew out his cheeks. “All this to the side, Lankwiler’s act is a great inconvenience. Drofo, how will we fare with only three worms?”

  “We shall have no great difficulty. Cugel can readily manage both sponsons. To ease the helmsman we will use double bait to starboard and half-bait to port, and so without difficulty we will arrive at Lausicaa, and there make adjustments.”

  Captain Baunt had already altered course toward Lausicaa, so that Madame Soldinck might bathe in the Paphnissian Springs. Baunt, who had hoped to make a quick passage, was not happy with the delay, and watched Cugel closely, to make sure that the worms were used to the maximum efficiency. “Cugel!” called Captain Baunt. “Adjust the lead on that off-worm; it is pulling us broadside!”

  “Aye, sir.”

  And presently: “Cugel! Your starboard worm is listless; it merely slaps the water. Freshen its bait!”

  “I am already at double-bait,” grumbled Cugel. “It was fresh an hour ago.”

  “Then use half a gill of Heidinger’s Allure, and be quick about it! I wish to make Pompodouros before sunset tomorrow!”

  During the night the starboard worm, becoming fretful, began to slap at the water with its flukes. Drofo, aroused by the splashing, came up from his cabin. Leaning on the rail he watched as Cugel ran back and forth along the sponson, trying to throw a check-line over the mischievous worm’s flukes.

  After a few moments observation, Drofo diagnosed the problem. He called out in a nasal voice: “Always lift the bait before throwing a check-line … Now then, what is happening down there?”

  Cugel responded sullenly: “The worm wants to swim up, down and sideways.”

  “What did you feed?”

  “The usual: half Chalcorex and half Illem’s Best.”

  “You might use a bit less Chalcorex for the next day or so. That lump of tissue behind the turret is usually a dependable signal. How did you bait?”

  “Double-bait, as I was instructed. The captain ordered a further half-gill of Heidinger’s Allure.”

  “There is your problem. You have over-baited, which is an act of folly.”

  “At Captain Baunt’s orders!”

  “That excuse is worse than none. Who is the worminger, you or Captain Baunt? You know your worms; you must work them by the dictates of your experience and good judgment. If Baunt interferes, ask him to come down and advise you in regard to an infestation of gangue. That is the way of the worminger! Change bait at once and drench the worm with a seep of Blagin’s Mulcent.”

  “Very good, sir,” said Cugel between his teeth.

  Drofo made a brief survey of sky and horizon, then returned to his cabin and Cugel busied himself with the drench.

  Captain Baunt had ordered the sail set, hoping to catch a waft of favorable air. Two hours after midnight a cross-wind arose, causing the sail to flap against the mast, creating a dismal sound which aroused Captain Baunt from his slumber. Baunt lurched out on deck. “Where is the watch? Hoy! Worminger! You there! Is no one about?”

  Cugel, clambering up to the deck from the sponson, replied: “Only the lookout, who is asleep under the lantern.”

  “Well then, what of you? Why have you not silenced that sail? Are you deaf?”

  “No sir. I have been under-water, drenching with Blagin’s Mulcent.”

  “Well then, heave aft on the leach-line, and abate that cursed slatting!”

  Cugel hastened to obey, while Captain Baunt went to the starboard rail. Here he discovered new cause for dissatisfaction. “Worminger, where is your bait? I ordered double-bait, with aroma of Allure!”

  “Sir, one cannot drench while the worm exerts itself for bait.”

  “Why then did you drench? I ordered no Mulcent!”

  Cugel drew himself up. “Sir, I drenched that worm according to the dictates of my best judgment and experience.”

  Captain Baunt stared blankly, threw his arms in the air, turned and went back to his bed.

  2

  Lausicaa

  The sun, dropping down the sky, passed behind a ledge of low clouds and twilight came early. The air was still; the ocean lay flat, with a surface like heavy satin, exactly reflecting the sky, so that the Galante seemed to float through a void of marvellous lavender luminosity. Only the bow waves, spreading away at V-angles in rolling black and lavender ripples, defined the surface of the sea.

  An hour before sunset Lausicaa appeared on the horizon: a shadow almost lost in the plum-colored murk.

  As darkness fell, a dozen lights flickered from the town Pompodouros, reflecting across the opening into the harbor and easing the approach for Captain Baunt.

  A wharf fronting the town showed as a heavy mark, blacker than black, across the reflections. In unfamiliar waters and in the dark, Captain Baunt prudently elected to drop anchor rather than attempt mooring at the dock.

  From the quarter-deck Captain Baunt called forward: “Drofo! Bring up your baits!”

  “Up baits!” came back Drofo’s acknowledgment, then, in a different voice: “Cugel! Debait all worms!”

  Cugel snatched bait from the two port worms, scrambled across the deck, jumped down upon the starboard sponson and debaited the starboard worm. The Galante barely drifted through the water, to idle motions of the worms’ flukes.

  Captain Baunt called out again: “Drofo, muffle your worms!”

  “Muffle worms!” came Drofo’s response, and then: “Cugel, muffles all around! Quick now!”

  Cugel muffled the starboard worm, but fell into the water and was slow with the port muffles, prompting a complaint from Captain Baunt. “Drofo, hurry the muffles! Are you conducting a rite for the dead? Boatswain, ready the anchor!”

  “Muffles going on!” sang out Drofo. “Look sharp, Cugel!”

  “Anchor at the ready, sir.”

  The worms were muffled at last, and the Galante barely drifted through the water.

  “Let go the anchor!” called Captain Baunt.

  “Anchor in the water, sir! Bottom at six fathoms.”

  The Galante lay placidly to anchor. Cugel eased the worms in their cinctures, applied unguent and fed each worm a measure of victual.

  After the evening meal Captain Baunt assembled the ship’s company on the midship deck. Standing halfway up the companionway ladder he spoke a few words in regard to Lausicaa and the town Pompodouros.

  “Those of you who have visited this place before, I doubt if there are many, will understand why I must issue warnings. In
a nut-shell, you will find certain customs which guide the folk of this island to be at variance with our own. They may impress you as strange, grotesque, laughable, disgraceful, picturesque or commendable, depending upon your point of view. Whatever the case, we must take note of these customs and abide by them, since the folk of Lausicaa will definitely not alter their ways in favor of ours.”

  Captain Baunt smilingly acknowledged the presence of Madame Soldinck and her three daughters. “My remarks apply almost exclusively to the gentlemen aboard, and if I touch upon topics which might be considered tasteless, I can only plead necessity; so I beg your indulgence!”

  Soldinck cried out bluffly: “Enough of your breast-beating, Baunt! Speak up! We are all reasonable people aboard, Madame Soldinck included!”

  Captain Baunt waited until the laughter had died down. “Very well then! Look along the dock yonder; you will notice three persons standing under the street-lamp. All are men. The faces of each are hidden behind hoods and veils. For this precaution there is reason: the ebullience of the local females. So vivacious is their nature that men dare not display their faces for fear of provoking ungovernable impulses. Female voyeurs go so far as to peek through windows of the clubhouse where the men gather to drink beer, sometimes with their faces partially exposed.”

  At this information Madame Soldinck and her daughters laughed nervously. “Extraordinary!” said Madame Soldinck. “And women of every social class act in this fashion?”

  “Absolutely!”

  Meadhre asked diffidently: “Do the men propose marriage with their faces concealed?”

  Captain Baunt reflected. “So far as I know, the idea never enters anyone’s head.”

  “It does not seem a wholesome atmosphere in which to bring up children,” said Madame Soldinck.

  “Apparently the children are not seriously affected,” said Captain Baunt. “Until the age of ten boys may sometimes be seen barefaced, but even during these tender years they are protected from adventurous young females. At the age of ten they ‘go under the veil’, to use the local idiom.”

  “How tiresome for the girls!” sighed Salasser.

  “And also undignified!” said Tabazinth with emphasis. “Suppose I noticed what appeared to be a handsome young man, and ran after him and finally subdued him, and then, when I pulled away his hood, I found protruding yellow teeth, a big nose and a narrow receding forehead. What next? I would feel a fool simply getting up and walking away.”

  Meadhre suggested: “You could tell the gentleman that you merely wanted directions back to the ship.”

  “Whatever the case,” Captain Baunt went on, “the women of Lausicaa have evolved techniques to restore the equilibrium. After this fashion:

  “The men are partial to spraling, which are small delicate bidechtils. They swim at the surface of the sea in the early morning. The women, therefore, arise in the pre-dawn hours, wade out into the sea, where they capture as much spraling as possible, then return to their huts.

  “Those women with a good catch set their fires going and hang out signs, such as: FINE SPRALING TODAY, or TASTY SPRALING TO YOUR ORDER.

  “The men arise in due course and stroll about the town. When at last they work up an appetite, they stop by a hut where the sign offers refreshment to their taste. Often, if the spraling is fresh and the company good, they may stay for dinner as well.”

  Madame Soldinck sniffed and murmured aside to her daughters, who merely shrugged and shook their heads.

  Soldinck climbed two steps up the companionway ladder. “Captain Baunt’s remarks are not to be taken lightly! When you go ashore, wear a robe or a loose gown and by some means muffle your face so as to avoid any unseemly or improper incident! Am I clear?”

  Captain Baunt said: “In the morning we will moor at the dock and attend to our various items of business. Drofo, I suggest that you put this interval to good purpose. Anoint your animals well and cure all chafes, galls and cankers. Exercise them daily about the harbor, since idleness brings on impaction. Cure all your infestations; trim all gills. These hours in port are precious; each must be used to the fullest, without regard for day or night.”

  “This echoes my own thinking,” said Drofo. “I will immediately give the necessary orders to Cugel.”

  Soldinck called out: “A final word! Lankwiler’s departure with the starboard off-worm might have caused us enormous inconvenience were it not for the wise tactics of our Chief Worminger. I propose a cheer for the estimable Drofo!”

  Drofo acknowledged the acclamation with a curt jerk of the head, then turned away to instruct Cugel, after which he went forward to lean on the rail and brood across the waters of the harbor.

  Cugel worked until midnight with his cutters, burnishing irons and reamer, then treated pust, gangue, and timp. Drofo had long since vacated his place on the bow and Captain Baunt had retired early. Cugel stealthily abandoned his work and went below to his bunk.

  Almost immediately, or so it seemed, he was aroused by Codnicks the deck-boy. Blinking and yawning Cugel stumbled up to the deck, to find the sun rising and Captain Baunt impatiently pacing back and forth.

  At the sight of Cugel Captain Baunt stopped short. “Hurrah! You have finally decided to honor us with your presence! Naturally our important business ashore can wait until you have drowsed and dozed to your heart’s content. Are you finally able to face the day?”

  “Aye, sir!”

  “Thank you, Cugel. Drofo, here, at long last, is your worminger!”

  “Very good, Captain. Cugel, you must learn to be on hand when you are needed. Now return your worms into cincture. We are ready to work our way into the dock. Keep your muffles ready to hand. Use no bait.”

  With Captain Baunt on the quarter-deck, Drofo alert at the bow and Cugel tending worms to port and starboard, the Galante eased across the harbor to the dock. Longshoremen, wearing long black gowns, tall hats with veils shrouding their faces, took mooring-lines and made the ship fast to bollards. Cugel muffled the worms, eased cinctures and fed victual all around.

  Captain Baunt assigned Cugel and the deck-boy to gangplank watch; every one else, suitably dressed and veiled, went ashore. Cugel immediately concealed his features behind a makeshift veil, donned a cloak and likewise went ashore, followed in short order by Codnicks the deck-boy.

  Many years before, Cugel had passed through the old city Kaiin in Ascolais, north of Almery. In the decayed grandeur of Pompodouros he discovered haunting recollections of Kaiin, conveyed principally by the fallen and ruined palaces along the hillside, now overgrown with foxglove and stone-weed and a few small pencil cypresses.

  Pompodouros occupied a barren hollow surrounded by low hills. The present inhabitants had put the mouldering stones from the ruins to their own purposes: huts, the men’s clubhouse, the marketdome, a sickhouse for men and another for women, one slaughter-house, two schools, four taverns, six temples, a number of small work-shops and the brewery. In the plaza a dozen white dolomite statues, now more or less dilapidated, cast stark black shadows away from the wan red sunlight.

  There seemed no streets to Pompodouros, only open areas and cleared spaces through the rubble which served as avenues. Along these by-ways the men and women of the town moved about their business. The men, by virtue of their long gowns and black veils hanging below their hats, seemed tall and spare. The women wore skirts of furze dyed dark green, dark red, gray or violet-gray, tasseled shawls and beaded caps, into which the more coquettish inserted the plumes of sea-birds.

  A number of small carriages, drawn by those squat heavy-legged creatures known as ‘droggers’, moved through the places of Pompodouros; others, awaiting hire, ranged in a line before the men’s club-house.

  Bunderwal had been delegated to escort Madame Soldinck and her daughters on a tour of nearby places of interest; they hired a carriage and set off about their sightseeing. Captain Baunt and Soldinck were met by several local dignitaries and conducted into the men’s clubhouse.

  With hi
s face concealed behind the veil, Cugel also entered the club-house. At a counter he bought a pewter jug of beer and took it to a booth close beside that where Captain Baunt, Soldinck, and some others drank beer and discussed business of the voyage.

  By pressing his ear against the back of the booth and listening with care, Cugel was able to capture the gist of the conversation. “— most extraordinary flavor to this beer,” came Soldinck’s voice. “It tastes of tar.”

  “I believe that it is brewed from tarweed and other such constituents,” replied Captain Baunt. “It is said to be nutritious but it slides down the gullet as if it had claws … Aha! Here is Drofo.”

  Soldinck lifted his veil to look. “How can you tell, with his face concealed?”

  “Easily. He wears the yellow boots of a worminger.”

  “That is clear enough. Who is the other person?”

  “I suspect the gentleman to be his friend Pulk. Hoy, Drofo! Over here!”

  The newcomers joined Captain Baunt and Soldinck. Drofo said: “I hereby introduce the worminger Pulk, of whom you have heard me speak. I have hinted of our needs and Pulk has been kind enough to give the matter his attention.”

  “Good!” said Captain Baunt. “I hope that you also mentioned our need for a worm, preferably a ‘Motilator’ or a ‘Magna-fluke’?”

  “Well, Pulk,” asked Drofo, “what of it?”

  Pulk spoke in a measured voice. “I believe that a worm of the requisite quality might be available from my nephew Fuscule, especially if he were signed aboard the Galante as a worminger.”

  Soldinck looked from one to the other. “Then we would have three wormingers aboard ship, in addition to Drofo. That is impractical.”

  “Quite so,” said Drofo. “Ranked in order of indispensability, the wormingers would be first, myself, then Pulk, then Fuscule, and finally —” Drofo paused.

  “Cugel?”

  “Just so.”

  “You are suggesting that we discharge Cugel upon this bleak and miserable island?”